


blurring the lines between real and the fake.

by secretly_a_savior



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: (kind of i guess? read it okay?), Anxiety, Apologies, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, Irony, M/M, Panic, Safeword Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 12:35:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6566404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretly_a_savior/pseuds/secretly_a_savior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternatively titled: how to say no</p><p> </p><p>  <i>He didn’t want or need General Washington around right now, although maybe being forced to get some work done could help him at least get into a better mindset- although he wasn’t sure that would help with the immense fatigue he was feeling. What he wanted and ostensibly needed was George Washington- not the general, not the commander- the man with gentle hands and a propensity for understanding.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	blurring the lines between real and the fake.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [babykid528](https://archiveofourown.org/users/babykid528/gifts).



> Alternatively titled: the one paige wrote while everybody she knows is at prom because she wasn't invited.
> 
> Alex learns a very important lesson everybody needs in this one, how nifty. 
> 
> This is a surprise gift for Babykid528 who is an incredible writer and someone I consider i friend and i was reading all their whamilton/hamwash stuff and i just !!!! wow!!!! they deserve a surprise. 
> 
> this is really sweet ok? i enjoyed writing this, poor alexander needs to put himself first more often  
> it's ironic because as we all know, alexander has no fucking clue how to say no even when we know he needs to. (NOT SORRY.)
> 
> as always: COMMENTS VALIDATE MY VERY EXISTENCE PLEASE THANK YOU

 

                Alexander Hamilton wasn’t feeling well- not at all. It wasn’t that he was feeling _ill._ No, for once in his life he was as fit as a fiddle. He just didn’t feel… _well._ He was stressed, under pressure. Rarely was his mind too distraught for him to put pen to paper- but he felt it now. A cursed writer’s block brought on by whatever it was clouding his mind. He felt lethargic and sad and anxious all at once. He paced the room rather aggressively, trying to keep his thoughts at bay without drinking.

                He didn’t want to get sick, which was inevitable if he drank- especially in excess like he wanted to. He was beginning to calm himself- clinging to the steady sound of his own pace. _One and two and three and four and five and **turn** and one… _It was a constant- he appreciated it. Until it stopped in its tracks. He heard the door open and a few commanding footsteps and halted quickly, turning on his heel to face the entrance. He already knew who it was.

                “Your Excellency.” He forced out. He didn’t _want_ or _need_ General Washington around right now, although maybe being forced to get some work done could help him at least get into a better mindset- although he wasn’t sure that would help with the immense fatigue he was feeling. What he _wanted_ and ostensibly _needed_ was George Washington- not the general, not the _commander-_ the man with gentle hands and a propensity for understanding. Regardless of how he felt, he went through the professional motions- if the other wasn’t in the mood, he didn’t want to bother him.

                “At ease, Colonel.” Washington said, furrowing his brow and casting a glance at Alexander’s desk- and then to his hands. No ink stains on either- no paper, no papercuts. He grinned- he interpreted that as his ever-invulnerable Alexander wanting to play.

                “Yessir.” Alexander said, moving to sit behind his desk, tapping his feet on the floor. He caught a mischievous glint in the other’s  eyes.

                “I said, _At ease, **Alexander.**_ ”

                Alexander shifted slightly in his seat with a curt nod.  Their code word- _at ease, Alexander_ meant the coast was clear and they could be as affectionate as they wanted or needed. Yet, he still stayed seated- usually a sign he was up to something, but right now just a sign that he was a wreck and his mind wasn’t working and _oh god, what if he didn’t mean it and I touch him and he gets upset?_ Every scenario became a worst case scenario as he looked up at the General- his mind racing.

                “You didn’t get any of your work done Alexander- that letter to Baron von Steuben was of utmost importance…” he said, in an almost-serious tone. Of course the letter was _not_ of any importance- a quick glance through his mental to-do-list and Alexander wasn’t even sure it existed. Whatever the case was, Washington gestured for the secretary to stand, and stand he did, swallowing a lump from his throat. Maybe Washington’s advances- as _unconventional_ as they were could… distract him. He was positive he’d get into the groove of things in a moment.

                “I’m _sorry,_ your Excellency- I couldn’t-“

                “Now, now, Alexander.” The General said, approaching with calculated footsteps, one in front of the other. “Nobody likes an _excuse.”_ he said, cocking his head slightly and offering a devilish grin. “Accept responsibility for your mistake and I’m sure we can work something out." He pet his companion’s loosely-tied hair softly, but that’s the only thing the younger man took solace in. Otherwise, roleplay was blending into reality and he was quickly working himself into a panic, although he didn’t want to show it to the other. He could handle this. George clearly _needed_ to blow off steam if he wanted to play things like _this-_ and he didn’t want to disappoint him.

                “I’ll do better next time, sir.” He half-heartedly replied, clenching his jaw. The other clearly hadn’t picked up on his nervousness or tensity yet- and Alexander considered that a victory. He didn’t like _worrying_ him. Not at all.

                “Of course you will. I have the utmost faith in you.” Washington said, tongue curling around the word seductively, an eyebrow quirked. His hands now rested on either side of the smaller man, resting right on his hips. “Unfortunately, I am a firm believer that every action has it’s consequence.”

                “Yes sir.”

                “What do you think, Son? Don’t you think a punishment is in order?” he asked, cocking his head once more, leaning in. He could feel Alexander’s breath in as he prepared to speak, but what came next shocked him.

                “No.” Alexander said, eyes going wide. His voice cracked as he spoke and he immediately wished he could take it back. This was about his lover- not him _at all._ If he couldn’t be ready for whatever George needed, what was the point of keeping him around? He felt the other’s touches immediately become gentler, closer, _protective_ and he leant into them, feeling his resolve leave him- as if Washington was leeching it out with strong hands and comforting touches.

                “Alexander, are you okay?”

                “ _No.”_ he choked out, repeating himself. He was fighting back _tears_ now and he felt like one hundred percent _less_ of a man now because of it- he felt pathetic. Shedding tears in front of your commander- intimate relationship or not- was disgraceful, at least in his own opinion. Despite that, he swallowed hard and felt tears spill onto his cheeks. He hardly even registered that the older man had picked him up until he was lying in bed, wrapped in long, warm arms that seemed to have the answer. His breathed _wracked_ through him like gunfire and his sobs were no more helpful, even as he felt fingers rake through his hair and heard caring hushes.

                They were like that for what seemed like an eternity before Alexander shot up out of the other’s arms, breathing less _heavy_ and more _urgent_ now- as if he couldn’t get enough air in his lungs to say what he had to say all at once.

                “I’m sorry- you shouldn’t have had to see that. It was nothing you did, sir- I’m just.”

                He was pulled back down and hushed and for a moment all he could hear was his heart attempting to escape from his own chest.

                “It’s alright- I should be sorry- you were tense and I didn’t see. Are you okay?”

                “So long as you’re close I’ll be fine- but I’m still-“

                “Shh. Alexander, please. Are you safe? Did something happen?”

                The smaller man shook his head.

                “I’m just not feeling right. I’m sure this too shall pass. I apologize for all of my illness and strife. Is there a chance we could dress for bed? I am exhausted and if you-“

                “I’m asking you as a friend, not a higher-up, Alexander. Please stop apologizing. Illness and strife do not bother me- if they did, surely Aaron Burr would be at your desk currently, scrawling out words only half as brilliant as yours. “ He said, standing and attending to the other’s request.

                He stripped down to just his shirt and climbed back into the bed, welcoming the now-shivering Alexander into his arms once he was ready to climb back into the bed.

                “Never be ashamed of _no,_ Alexander. _Yes_ can get you places you don’t want to be, and I cannot have you hurt.”

                Alexander nodded, staying silent, finally comfortable, his heart rate finally steadying. The shivering stopped too- he almost felt human again.

                “Do you want to talk about it?”

                Alexander shook his head, for fear more tears would spout if he discussed his condition. Despite his comfort in the care of his lover, he still felt pathetic. He’d persevered through much worse than simply a _bad morning_ and yet here he was, cracking like a chicken’s egg at the slightest pressure.

                “Talk to me, please.” He requested, pulling the quilt over their bodies. He couldn’t actually remember when the last time he slept was- but he was grateful for the rest. His whole body ached.

                “What?”

                “Talk to me- tell my about your day, complain about the troops. Anything. I just want to hear your voice.  Talk me to sleep.”

                Washington felt a surge of pride and affection and sadness all at once. He didn’t understand the secretary’s plight, but he wanted to help. He wanted to put his mind at ease and so he obliged, launching into some story from his boyhood.

                Alexander fell asleep in warm arms to the sound of an even warmer voice- oblivious to the war outside- and for the first time within what was surely the longest 24 hours of his life, Alexander Hamilton felt well.


End file.
